Memories
by ZoieLark
Summary: For Faye Valentine, memories have always been a plague to her existence


**I don't own Cowboy Bebop

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Memories

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She sat in a booth, listening to the whirring of machinery all around her as well as the grumbling of a male patron. Tasting the artificial air on her lips, she winced slightly. It tasted like mold. She wasn't too surprised, though. Places, such as the little joint she decided to visit, rarely put in any money to fix the air conditioning. It was all about buying booze and supplying it to the half dead patrons who managed to drag their carcass in every now and again. 

She ordered a drink; nothing too strong, however. She had given up on burying her sorrows in spirits. As her drink arrived, she sipped it slowly, feeling the memories at the tip of her brain, nipping at her, trying to make her remember things that she wanted to--still wants to--forget.

She took another sip, oblivious of the people watching her curiously. Normally, beautiful women did not go to dives such as the one she currently sits in. Her short purple hair, barely touching her shoulders, sways slowly to the gentle breeze of artificial air. Her lips, red as rubies, caress the glass that she drinks from. Many of them are mesmerized by her; this young girl who looks no more than 26. She removed her sun glasses and placed them on her table. Even the patrons could tell that she was fighting a battle within herself.

Should she fight? Should she just surrender to them?

Memories. They were the only things she had that belonged to her and nobody else. Memories were the only things sustaining her, making her live one day more. Recalling the happiness and the pain, living through the heartache and the vengeance…that was her soul role now.

Once, a long time ago, she searched to retrieve her memories only to find that they did not give her the pleasure that she was hoping for. If anything, it had given her more pain. Realization that things could never go back to the way they were had dawned on her, had made her suffer quietly.

No. Not quietly. She had lashed out once in order to save _his _life. She had told him; told him the truth about the past, about memories and still--

She took another sip of her drink.

He had walked out on her…

The memories came, even if she tried to fight it; they always came.

He was a big part to her memories. _He_ was always there, grinning his idiotic grin or shooting his damned idiotic gun. It was hard to imagine that _he_ was always there even though she had known him for only a short period of time. It was less than a blip on the freaking radar, yet _he_ had made such an impact on her life.

was a big part to her memories. was always there, grinning his idiotic grin or shooting his damned idiotic gun. It was hard to imagine that was always there even though she had known him for only a short period of time. It was less than a blip on the freaking radar, yet had made such an impact on her life. 

She thrust her drink away, obviously troubled by that realization. If only she hadn't met him. If only she hadn't been caught by that mob boss or if he hadn't sat at her Black Jack table.

Was it fate? Was in coincidence?

She grinned slightly. She never believed in fate. Not since had woken up in a after being frozen after so long. No. She just no longer believed in it. Everything that had happened was just coincidence; that's all it was. All the instances in the past that led her to him…it wasn't fate.

She cursed her memories. Thinking about him always made her lose track of time and she thought about him a lot. Jet would be pissed. He had already lectured her on being late twice that very day.

She reached inside her pocket, intent on paying the bill but found that she had no money.

Surprise, surprise, she thought to herself.

It didn't matter. All she had to do was flirt with a random patron and they would happily pay for her drink. It was easy and she had done it on several occasions.

But at that moment, she didn't feel like flirting. At that moment, she only felt like letting her restraints go and letting the memories flood her entire being. She wanted to soak in it, to relive all of it.

She heard the heavy drop of a coin on the table and blinked. She looked up at the stranger who was passing by, hidden beneath a large sombrero and poncho. There was something odd to him, something that she couldn't quite place. It was as if he struck something deep within her…

…like a memory.

She shot up out of her chair and quickly walked to the stranger. She wasn't in the habit of saying "thank you" but she felt as if she owed it to this man.

She caught up with him, out in the streets while people pushed and shoved their way around her. She grabbed onto his poncho and tugged, causing him to turn around.

"Thank--"

"If my memory serves me, correctly," he interrupted her in a deep voice, "you were never one to say 'thank you.'"

She froze as he tipped the hat back and pulled the poncho off. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

He wasn't alive. She was sure of it. She was there at the burial when they shoved his body down into the ground.

But as she thought this, she blinked rapidly and he was gone, disappearing into her memories and was replaced by a short, plump man who was staring at her hand. She let go, suddenly and apologized automatically.

Was she going insane?

It was her stupid memories. They were messing with her once more. She hated them yet yearned for them.

If only she could forget for one day, maybe it would be easier. If only she could wake up from her haze, it would be better.

If only…

If only she didn't have her damned memories.

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A/N: Shall this story be continued or is it fine the way it is? 


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